Calm Before the Storm
by mg0105
Summary: A very important character was left out of the PJO series. Now she has decided to tell her story.
1. Different

Different

There are reasons why I was left out of the books. Reasons why the whole world knows about the others and not me. The main is this: _I am not meant to be known. I am a sign, a crazy story, myth, legend, whatever you want to call it that wasn't supposed to be real. At least not anymore._ But you already know from the book series about Percy that the seemingly impossible can be very real. You just have to accept that things aren't always what you think there are, that there are pretty crazy explanations for anything and everything that happens. Usually involving people like me. Half-bloods. So while you're reading this, you'll probably be surprised of how different it is. Because I know that new 'additions' or 'characters' to a story you already know and love (whether it's real or fake) can be annoying or scary. Trust me, been there, done that. Well, it is kind of the same thing. Except I'm there. I think Rick named his books... Percy Jackson and the Olympians?... I'm not sure. He left me out for safety. We couldn't risk people being put in danger for knowing about my weird life. Trust me, I wouldn't even be writing this if Annabeth would stop bugging me about it. According to her it won't do any harm if it doesn't fall into the wrong hands. Anyway, here it is; what mortal fans of the PJO series would call 'fanfic' (something like that) or 'abridged', but what we call the truth. _My side of the story._


	2. My Dead Family Stops By

Chapter 2

My Dead Family Stops By

First things first. I didn't ask for this.

If I had known that having a family meant putting them in so much more danger than they already were in, I would've gladly settled for a puppy or something else instead. Because if I learned anything from the soap operas that I would watch when the orphanage caretaker wasn't looking, it's that the people you love can be hurt by any little thing you do. Or turn out evil and plot how to kill you. (Thankfully, that last one didn't come true.)

I had always been told that my parents died in a boating accident; I believed it at first, but when every staff member in the house started to add different reasons for the crash into the story (another boat, an iceberg, a fifty-foot long sea monster, etc.) it became a little too much to process. I was supposedly brought here when I was about a week old by 'an associate of my father.' The older I got, the less sense anything made.

And another thing. I always got visited by a therapist, which I never needed thank you very much. It's been so long that I forgot his name. I think it started with a 'B' or something. But no one could ever forget what he looked like, not even me. He was probably in around his forties, with thinning brown hair and a beard. What stood out the most was his motorized wheelchair that made the old wood floors of the orphanage hallway squeek. Some of the only memories I had of when I was younger were this exact sound almost every day of the week (well and the time that I almost got strangled by a REALLY tall stranger while walking down the street, but that's a different story). All the time I would wait. His visits were the only thing I really had to look forward to. He was one of the few people in the world that I actually liked and was patient with me.

"You're a special girl Madison," he would say. "And I know your parents would give anything to see you now." This was always comforting. It wasn't like the same old 'Oh I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have to go through that.' Hearing someone say that they were _sorry _for you didn't help. In fact, it made things a lot worse. And no. No one should have to go through losing their parents. But hearing what the therapist had to say... He made it seem like there was a chance they could come back. So I never contemplated the best way to aggravate him to death. But when I was nine, he just vanished. I never saw him again. Like always I would wait; no wheelchair slowly making its way to my room at the end of the hall.

My routine basically was the same after that, with the exception of a few near death experiences. No wonder other kids called me a freak. I attract danger like a picnic attracts ants. In the fall, winter, and spring I would go to school and constantly be teased for how different I was. The things they said hurt, but I really did my best to ignore them. One time I couldn't take it though. Welllll, let's just say that it resulted in the fire department being called and me having to enroll in a different school. In the summer, I was heaped with chores. Life followed that same exact pattern until I was 12. When my family showed up.

Yeah. The family that was supposed to be dead but was very much alive. Bummer. A zombie family would actually be kinda cool.


	3. I Learn I'm Not the Only Freak Out There

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Chapter 3

I Learn I'm Not the Only Freak Out There

Again I mention how noisy the floor is. It's like walking on bubblewrap.

I jumped as the thunder grew louder and louder. So loud it almost blocked out the sound of my footsteps. (Keyword: _almost._)Most storms I did okay in. But some of them, like the one going on now, scare me to death. I don't know what it is, there's just something that makes them different. Deadly. It's like the water cycle got mad and decided to throw a temper tantrum. And walking down this creepy hallway while others look on from their rooms like I'm on my way to be executed sure doesn't help the feeling.

I wonder what I did this time to be called down to the main office. That's a special honor reserved for the serious things. Adoptions, punishments, etc. Though I'm pretty sure this is neither. Most kids that live here get adopted by the time they're seven; after you pass that age the social workers just kind of give up on trying to make you seem like the perfect child that attracts all the adults. It's a blessing and a punishment. Blessing, because they stop making you do everything they say. I swear, they might as well hang a sign that says 'I love you' from the younger kids's necks. That's how much they expect you to kiss up. Punishment, because sometimes they completely forget about you. In most circumstances, I was thrilled by this, but when I wasn't fed for a week and was kicked out of the kitchen for being a 'street rat' it went a little too far. I'm most likely not in trouble either. I haven't blown anything up in a month. Or put red paint in the cook's hair... Okay, _maybe_ I did the last one, but there's no proof it was me.

I take a deep breath as I put my hand on the rusty old door handle. Maybe this time I'll get good news. I've inherited a huge fortune from my parents that was just discovered. We're going on a trip to the Bahamas. I'm being moved to somewhere on the sea shore. I've always wanted to live on the water. Just something that doesn't bring even more pain. Anything. I hear a tiny click and realize that I subconsciously opened the door.

To my surprise, instead of the usual truancy officer or angry neighbor, a woman and a boy around my age are standing in front of me. The lady gasps and holds onto the boy, who I'm guessing is her son. He looks at me for a second and then smiles.

The orphanage director, Ms. Miller, clears her throat. "I'll leave you alone now."

I just stand there awkwardky for what seems like forever. I'm not that great at talking to people I don't know. I prefer to keep to myself and let everyone else mind their own business. "What's going on?" I finally work up the nerve to say.

"Why don't you sit down sweetie," the woman says pointing to an empty seat across from her. Normally I wouldv'e kicked over the chair and stared at her with an emotionless expression, but something told me not to. "I know this is going to be a lot to take in," she says slowly, taking my hand. I have to fight back the urge to scream, 'Just get on with it already!'

"Mom," the boy says. "Tell her." Tell me what?! I'm seriously going to fall asleep if they take any longer. While they whisper back and forth, I use the opportunity to look at them more closely. The boy has green eyes and black hair that looks like it is in desperate need of getting brushed. His mother is very pretty, and seems like she's the kind of person that you would trust the second you met her, no questions asked. She has long, straight brown hair like I do. I suddenly realize that they both look a little bit like me. The only thing that stands out are my eyes. They look light brown from a distance, but when you look closely you can see green and gold specks, along with a blue ring around the edge of the iris. In different lights, they also look dark blue, or a deep violet.

I am lost in my comparisons when the boy catches my attention. "I'm Percy," he says.

"Madison," I answer, ignoring his outstretched hand. "What's going on?" I repeat.

Percy's mom looks at me again. "Whatever they told you about your family dying wasn't true." It's not like that wasn't obvious. I know what's going on now. Honestly, I'm not really surprised. I'm just curious on_ why_ it happened.

"...Mom?" I ask.

She nods and looks over at Percy for support. My brother. Gosh it feels weird to say that... "I love you so much. Leaving you here was harder than I could ever explain... You'll understand one day." With this she starts to tear up, which turns into sobbing. I lean over to comfort her, as does Percy.

"It's okay." I say softly. "You had to do what was best. And if that meant this... I'm okay with it."

"Thank you," she says, her voice cracking though all the tears. Percy puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Welcome to the family Sis," he says jokingly with a cocky smile. This causes me to 'lightly' punch his shoulder. That's what sisters are supposed to do to their brothers, right? If not, oh well. He can live with it. He has to now. Assuming the reason they came was to take me home. Where ever home might be. He winces in pain. I'll remember to blackmail him with this later. So far, I like being a sister. It gives me an excuse to annoy someone. "For a twelve year old girl, you have a _really_ strong arm."  
"Well for a- how old are you?"

"Thirteen."

"Well for a thirteen-year-old-boy, you are really sensitive." He sticks his tongue out at me and I slap him, but this time not as hard. His mom- MY mom- is laughing hysterically at us from a few feet away, along with the director, who had entered the room again.

"Just sign these papers and she's free to go." While mom did whatever the director wanted, Percy followed me up to my room so I could pack the few things I had. We attracted even more stares than I had an hour before.

"Why don't you just take a picture?" I ask sarcastically. They all run back into their rooms and slam the doors. It's like they don't even realize that just because they don't want me to see them, I still do. Percy nods like he understands what I was going through. Maybe I have found the one person that does.

"Trust me," he says. "Where we're going, it gets weirder than that." As soon as he finishes that statement I knew that he wanted to take it back. I raise my eyebrow in question and cross my arms, waiting for an answer. "We haven't exactly told you everything." That was all I got? He might as well just say _another_ completely obvious thing. I wouldn't be surprised if he told me that we were some sort of royalty. Really, anything seems possible at this point.


	4. I Get the Psycho Ward On Speed Dial

Chapter 4

I Get the Psycho Ward On Speed Dial

Spending my whole life up until now in a smelly old orphanage. Check.

Family miraculously back from the dead. Got that. Really, what else can happen?

Percy looked out the window, looking at the dark gray clouds that surrounded the tops of skyscrapers. "He must be angry..." Just then a loud crack of thunder made us both jump.

"Who?" I ask him. I've only known him for about thirty minutes but my brother is seeming even weirder with every second.

"What are you talking about?"

"You said that someone was angry. Who were you talking about?"

"Are you always this nosy?"

"Yes. There, I answered your question. Now answer mine."

He shakes his head and keeps on staring out the small window. "Trust me; if I told you, you wouldn't believe me."

"At this point I'd believe anything."

He turns to me and giggles a little. I don't like the feeling I get when someone doesn't tell me something. I hate the feeling I get when that person seems to be enjoying me not knowing something they do. "Don't be so sure of that."

"Tell me."

"Where do I begin..." he says half to himself.

"At the beginning?" I suggust.

"Very funny. I'm laughing so hard."

"I have that effect on people. Now tell me. Please." I just used my least favorite word. Here, it meant that you were giving up. That you were weak. Maybe all that will change with my new home.

Percy picks up on this and sighs. "Just promise you won't punch me again."

"I'll try."

"It's about... I guess you could say, our dad's side of the family."

"...Okay. What does that have to do with the weather? And where is our dad?"

"I'm getting to that. One question at a time. It's all really complicated so don't be surprised if this takes forever."

I lean back against the wall. "We've got enough time. Mom won't be done with signing all those papers for an hour at least. Percy. _Tell me_."

"How much do you know about Greek mythology?"

REALLY.

I'm starting to think this boy really is insane. I ask about our dad, I get what sounds like it will turn out to be a crash course on some stories that mean absolutely nothing to me. Go figure. "Was that a serious question?"

"Yes. I answered your question so you have to answer mine," he replied in a high-pitched voice, obviously mocking me. Maybe I've met my match.

"A little. The gods lived on Mount Olympus. Some were considered more important than others. Zeus was the king of the gods. Hades ruled the Underworld; Poseidon, the sea. The basics I guess." Really, I know a lot more than I'm telling him, but going in depth would just waste time.

"...And what would you do if I told you all of that was true?"

"Smack your head with a shovel and call a psychiatrist."

"Then get a phone ready because that's exactly what I'm trying to tell you."

It's official. My brother is a delusional nutcase. When I don't say anything else, he decides to continue with this crazy story. "They are real... And interact with humans all the time. Sometimes they end up, um... Having kids with them. Example: us."

"So you're trying to tell me that _our dad_ is some ancient legend that was made up so the Greeks could explain the world? And that he just somehow wandered to the United States and fell in love with mom?"

"Yeah, pretty much. And no. He didn't just 'wander here.' The gods move over time. Where ever the heart of civilization was, they were there too. And now they're here. Don't try to make me explain that more. It would take forever. The main thing I'm trying to tell you is this: just because someone says that something is fake, just made up, doesn't mean that it is. We're proof of that. Us, and other half-bloods all over the world. I know this is hard to understand but... Trust me. It'll all make sense."

Taking a second to think, I process what he has just said. It does vaguely seem possible. Emphasis on vaguely. But still, it's something I would normally laugh off and call insane. Well, I am doing that already, but listening I feel like deep down I know it's true. No matter how crazy it seems, Percy has just told me the most truthful thing I've ever heard.

"So... Assuming it's all real... Who IS our dad?"

Percy smiles at me, either from having fond memories of our father or because I finally listened to him. Something tells me it's the second one. "Poseidon."

Poseidon. I repeat that in my head over and over again. I try to remember everything I can about the god of the sea. Trying to figure out what he was like. "One more thing," I say without thinking. "W-why did Mom bring me here? Instead of living with you two?"

He shakes his head in frustration and once again stares out the window at the dark clouds headed our way. "Now that I don't know. I honestly didn't even know you existed until yesterday." I hear a knock and open the door to reveal my mother. "All set!" she exclaims, picking up the one bag of clothes I have and heading out the door before I can argue (which probably was a good thing.)

"Don't ask her about it yet," Percy whispered. "Just let her enjoy having you around for the first time. I don't know why you ended up here, but it obviously hurt her. She's had to go through a lot these past few years. It's good that she can finally be happy again. And bringing up why you are here won't help."

"I never said I was going to."


End file.
